Oh, frabjous day! Woo Hoo! Waaaaahooolie! Yee Haw!(Dancing about, clapping hands, squealing with glee - singing, even!)

The BESTBESTBESTBEST news I've heard all week, and you heard it here first!

http://chicagotribune.com/

The foie gras ban has been lifted! It all started because of a gullible, moronic alderman with a duck fetish who saw a 25-year-old grainy, heavily altered and edited film forwarded to him by the local PETA dimwits. They couldn't or wouldn't even say what country the film came from, the propagandist weenies. Said sucked in alderman then wasted days of City Council's time and actually got them to ban the unctuous liver.

Reviled as a culinary asshole, he quickly faded from the picture. The press in this town are a sophisticated bunch who enjoy eating well. The ban, however remained,a rendering Chicago, the home of many, varied and excellent restaurants, a laughingstock in the world of fine dining.

There was a quiet resistance, however. Hot Doug's continued to serve it's foie gras hot dog, despite repeated fines. Several restaurants came up with expensive appetisers (like the $25.00 mac and cheese at one of my favorite places), that featured a foie gras "garnish".This was actually legal, since they weren't actually selling foie gras.

Now, Mayor Daley, may he live in the hearts of the well-fed for eternity, has forced a vote and repealed the ban!

Needless to say, The Boy and I have reservations at our favorite purveyor of fine dining for Saturday night. I called them immediately, ensured that they will have the glorious foie in stock, and booked a table. He is, as I write this, looking at their wine list, which they have obligingly posted online.

So, to the poll. It's a game, really. I've heard it called the "Death Row Game" or the "Bomb is Dropping Game", and it's really simple. There's just one question to answer:

If you knew that you were about to have your last meal, what would it be?

It's that simple and that complicated. Have fun. Gotta dance some more now.

An Italian smorgasbord. All the cheese, tomato sauce, meat, and pasta in various combinations that I could shove into my stomach before it exploded. Cheating the executioner would be a bonus.

Let's see, I'd want a liter or 3 of Hoegaarden beer, the garlic-cheese fondue from La Fondue (a restaurant in the Bay Area), a nice steak, cheese ravoli from Bucca di Beppo, Somoa (sp?) girl scout cookies and oreos.

Wow, amazing. I was just eating supper when I read your poll. How's that for synchonicity?

I made seafood lingiuni, ahhh. WANNA SEE?

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Anyway.

I adore fois gras. I like mine on a crispy wafer thin cracker with a slice of cornichon and a dab of onion or fig confit. Ah, good times. I never cared whether it gave me gas or not.

A last meal huh? I once thought eating lobster until I was too full was a dream but it happened once so, eh, been there done that. It wasn't as decadent as I thought it'd be.

I'd choose my mom's chicken caccitore and tiramisu.

I always liked your Polls Messy. That is one of the things I miss about Fnord, he did Polls too.

PG - You can get Hoegaarden at Bev Mo! $9.95 a sixer.

It certainly wouldn't include liver paste! The last time I had that, I thought I was eating dog food (it tasted the same and I have eaten dogfood). Fine dining, HAH!

I'm thinking a couple of pizzas piled so high with stuff that you can't take a bite without losing some of it (that is the only way to eat pizza).

Well, it'd be a damn big meal.

First, I'd need an authentic Maine lobster roll and a slice of blueberry pie. Then some sushi- salmon and yellowtail nigiri and a scallop roll. Followed by chips with guacamole and chorizo cheese dip, and some enchiladas with tomatillo sauce and sour cream. Finally, I'm gonna need a whoopie pie. I'll wash the whole thing down with a bottle of riesling and maybe a couple of mojitos.

If I could, I'd incorporate some pad thai, a bagel with lox and cream cheese, and a medium-rare duck breast, but I think I'd already be pretty full.

Alright, now I'm starving.

...She chortled in her joy, did messy! Geese everywhere are arranging protests, but hey: they're friggin' geese, man. We win.

This sounds fun. Let's see:

While cooking, could someone please get me a Stoli rocks, double. One massive olive.

Openers, a soup. We'll go to the Texas border. I'm thinking my wife's black bean chicken chili soup (she was a professional cook, once). A lot of cilantro, added late. Accompanied by handmade tortillas from Jalapeno's Restaurant in Santa Ana, cut into 1/4 inch wide strips and deep fried as hot as the oil will go without igniting. All taken in with a Corona (Cerveza Mas Fina!), so cold there's ice in it. Maybe more than one. Maybe a lot more.

Next: a little antipasto, a play on Caprese. Off to Italy! Carpaccio-thin slices of beefsteak tomato and mozzarella, drizzled in olive oil, dusted with fresh ground pepper, a spray of kosher salt, and fettered with a chiffonade of fresh basil and (breaking the rules) a veeery light dusting of ground red pepper. This deserves a bottle of my beloved Muscadet, even if it is gauche.

Main course: I'm totally with Glutton on the Maine Lobster. I want a Mediterranean mien to it. Cook mine split, in the shell over a hot barbecue with nothing but salt and pepper. Take the shell away, paint with olive oil infused with paper thin slices of garlic, and chunks of Kalamata olive and fresh oregano. Some braised kale with spinach, basil, and red onion over wild rice should sit next to a bowl of clarified butter and a fresh sliced lemon. A creamy, buttery chardonnay - Robert Mondavi had a reserve a while ago that won awards and cost as much as a car payment. That'll do me.

To finish, Paris. Just a simple creme broullet, a BIG one, with the top cooked so fast and hot it looks like stained glass, and topped with a few raspberries.

And finally, I will repair with a bottle of Inniskillin Vinyards (Niagra, not West Coast) special reserve chardonnay, a Macanudo Medio Noche Churchill, and a comfortable chair overlooking something lovely, like Lake Louise from a balcony suite at the Fairmont in Banff or my kids playing tag on the back lawn.

I would order swordfish, break off the sword and commit ritual seppuku. No-one kills the Macman but the Macman !

Alternatively i would order smoked salmon on crackers and Rocquefort cheese on crackers. Everything should be on crackers. I like appetisers, i have no use for so-called main meals.

"It's that simple and that complicated."

No kidding, it's really hard! I used to say, plain old Mac and Cheese. It's a comfort food and I'd rather be comfortable and have warm fuzzy memories floating about when say, the switch is thrown or the bomb lands.

But then I began to think... what about Mexican? I would love to have the #2 special (enchiladas and tacos, rice and beans) from the Mexican restaurant in my home town. I would happily eat salsa and guacamole and even have onions on my enchiladas because why would I need to worry about cramps and gas later? I'll be dead! I would start with a large draft XX and proceed to drink probably a pitcher of margaritas.

It's possible that I only dream of Mexican food at the moment because it's bloody difficult to make in Denmark. There are some OK Mex. restaurants, but to get proper salsa and guac, you gotta make your own. If I was living in Mexico, I'd probably dream of Chinese.

But definitely Oreo cookies and a big glass of milk for dessert.

That's a new one on me. Sounds good, I figure any food that makes you say whoopie has to be good.

Wow. Can The Boy and I go with? Perhaps a stop could be at Sook Harbour House on Vancouver Island, too...

Have you tried any of the sparkling shiraz? It's very popular Down Under - with barbecue.

ArchaeologyChick:

It's possible that I only dream of Mexican food at the moment because it's bloody difficult to make in Denmark.

I fully empathize. I lived for a time in a foreign country. I could get pizza and burgers, but finally decided to make my own Mexican food. I mixed, rolled, and fried the tortillas; cooked and refried some beans; chopped and mixed the ingredients for salsa; and grated some cheese. Hard cheese was pretty hard to come by. Most cheese had the consistency of pudding, so finding some to grate was an accomplishment in itself. All together, I probably spent a couple of hours or so to make about 10-12 pretty basic bean burritoes. I turned my back, and they were ALL GONE! My co-residents had eaten them all. I didn't even get a bite! Sob!

Incog,

I feel your pain! If I want soft corn tortillas I'm going to have to make them myself. Only the thought of having to do it... urgh, that's a lot of work! Thankfully I can get flour tortillas and right now I can get avocados, so as soon as we get more coriander in the supermarket I am going to go on a Mexican rampage!

I am profoundly glad I do not have roommates, but then I've discovered that many Danes dislike foreign food. I used a traditional Danish sausage last night in my pasta sauce and as my boy (very happily) munched away, he laughed and said "you should never serve this to my family, they'd freak out when they discover what you did to the sausage."

What Danes do to lasagna is a travesty!

Keeping with the theme of engorged organ meats, I would demand the liver of my executioner, with fava beans and a nice Chianti, of course.

Clearing up the legal disputes would buy me a few years, at least, I figure. Plus another six months to force-feed him to get it properly fluffy and tenderized.